Tabula Rosa
by Courtney Schroeder

 

The paint is chipping away to reveal
an earlier painting, flaking to another and then
another until one day we find our way back

 

to the beginning. My sister and I walk against
farm-backdrop as stroke of sky falls away to expose
the underlying sunset. The whole world barn to barn

 

bathes in October-sunset, and the shadow of corn stalks
strike into the blazing horizon. My sister painted this farm
in the third grade and just now it has broken through

 

the layers. Days peel back to moonlight, moonlight to days,
each scene bringing us closer to the first, done in fresh
primaries. But even if we get back there, a blankness

 

has yet to be uncovered and even if we find
a white curtain, still the actors will be lurking behind
the empty, practicing their lines.

 

COURTNEY SCHROEDER graduated from Dickinson College in 2002 with a degree in creative writing. Her work has been published in the Dickinson Review.

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